The Legend of the Werewolf (3 page)

If she called off the union with
Westley she would have to leave the pack. She would have to leave
her best friend and her grandfather.

Anne said nothing. She lowered her head
to hide the anger burning on her face as Gordon snatched his
leather jacket from one of the chairs and stormed out of the
cabin.

"He's your responsibility now! Figure
out what to do with him!" He yelled, slamming the screen door
behind him.

Anne's shoulders slumped. She brought
her hand up and bit her knuckle while battling back the sudden
swell in her throat. Westley put his arm around her shoulders but
she shrugged him off and stepped away.

The last thing she needed was to look like
she and him actually had something together. Thank God Chris
dropped them off and left. Otherwise, who knew how much trouble
they'd really be in?

"I'm sorry, Annie." Westley moved toward
the screen door. She didn’t mind so much when he used that name on
her. "I'll talk to him."

When he left, Anne felt remarkably
better.

Her grandpa put his arms around her in a
comforting hug. She didn't shrug him off like she'd done with
Westley.

Instead, s
he turned into him and hugged
back. He wore his thick brown housecoat and well-worn slippers. His
usual wear, day or night, and she sank into the familiar comfort he
offered. She breathed in his grandpa scent and felt like a little
girl again, safe and free from troubles.

He rested his chin on the top of her
head and she sighed. "I couldn't leave him to get killed," she
said, gazing at the spot where the product of the drama
slept.

Bill rubbed soothing circles into her
back. "I understand. But did you have to bring him here?" Bill
picked up the stone, twisted it in his hand and examined the
crescent moon for some seconds before reluctantly returning it to
the coffee table.

She knew what he was thinking.
"You didn't see it. It was glowing, just like in the story. And,
that guy made shadows come to life, we fought them with
light.
Just
like in the story
."

Bill took her by the shoulders and held
her at arms length. He leaned down and looked her in the eyes.
"Honey, do you know what the odds of something like that is? Even
if he is who you think he is—"

"Then he needs to be protected. If he's
the first—"

"He's not," Bill cut her off sharply, his
blue eyes leaving no room for argument. "Even if this is what it
looks like," Bill picked up the stone again and held it in front of
her, "you cannot believe that this man if the first
werewolf."

Anne cocked her head, then looked at the
man still unconscious on the sofa. "But that man attacked him, he
had that stone and shadow warriors. I heard him say something about
a thousand years. There has got to be a chance."

Bill sighed and rubbed his face with an
aging hand.

“
Please, Grandpa?” sShe begged.
Gordon had just yelled her into submission, she needed someone to
believe that she didn’t do this for nothing.

He looked at her, searching her face
before nodding. "Tell me what this warlock looked like
again."

It shouldn't be so important
that someone believed what she believed. But
, if that man really was the first
werewolf from the legend, then he could overrule Gordon's decision
and she wouldn't have to get married.

And, if he was not, well, at least she
could say that she stepped in and saved his life. She could also
tell herself that she’d done everything in her power to stop her
arranged marriage from ever happening.

"He was short, my height, and wore a lot
of flapping, black clothes. His face was very rat-like and he had a
comb over. His hair and eyes were the same shade of
black."

Bill nodded and looked back at the man on
the couch. "Shame he has no ID on him. Maybe then we could find out
where he comes from, see if we can contact any family for
him."

His pockets had been
searched
and
no wallet had been found. Before Gordon exploded on her, he
determined that the wallet must have been lost during the
destruction of the bar.

"And, since we can't?" sShe
asked.

Bill scratched his full head of silver
hair. "Gordon isn’t going to appreciate it, but this is beyond even
his power as pack master. If someone is out to kill him, and
there's a chance that he is the first wolf, we have an obligation
to protect him. But, because I don't think he is who you think he
is, the best course of action is to hide him. Just in
case."

Anne cringed. "Because I brought him here
and endangered the rest of the pack," she said, repeating what
Gordon had screamed at her earlier.

Bill nodded. "Yes. I know you meant well
and I'll talk to Gordon. He can't stay angry for long." He pulled
her close and kissed her forehead. "You did the right thing. I
think it would be best if we helped him out regardless of who he
might be. It’s not right to let a man be killed when we can do
something about it."

She hugged him. "I'll stay here with him,
in case he wakes up." It was nearly dawn and he'd been out of it
for hours. He couldn't sleep for much longer.

She, on the other hand, could use a
wolf nap.

Bill looked at their sleeping guest, then
back at her with one grey eyebrow raised. Her grandpa had old
fashioned values. If a man and a woman were not married and not
related, they didn't spend the night together in a square, one
bedroom cabin where the only thing that separated the kitchen from
the sitting room was the table.

Whether the man was unconscious or not
was beside the point.

She removed his hands from her shoulders
and kicked off her boots. "I'll be fine. Gordon said he's my
responsibility anyway. He'll see that I'm taking what I did
seriously if I'm the one waiting for him to wake up. Plus, I kind
of feel bad. I was the one who smashed his head with the rock,
after all."

Bill burst out laughing and kissed her
forehead again. "Alright, but I want Brock to come over in case you
need anyone."

Anne sighed, she was perfectly capable of
defending herself against a human male. Especially one who would
want nothing more than a bottle of aspirin when he woke up.
Unfortunately, Bill wouldn't leave until she was under the
protection of the big, red-headed wolf. She conceded to his
request.

"Fine, fine. I love you and I'll see
you in the morning." She kissed his cheek and all but pushed him
out the door.

Only then did she breathe.

Everyone in the room, whether they were
interrogating or defending, suffocated her. She was glad to just be
alone.

She looked back at her guest and nearly
managed a smile. Well, not quite alone, but close
enough.

Anne pulled one of the old chairs
closer to the couch and settled herself into the cushions so she
could hear him if he stirred.

Not for the first time since bashing him
did she wonder if she did the right thing. Either way, he was here
and she couldn't wait for him to wake up. She had so many
questions.

If he was the man of legend, Luna’s
lover and the very first werewolf, then that didn't necessarily
make him a werewolf now.

The story told of a warlock and a normal
man, both in love with the same woman. She was the Goddess of the
moon, Luna, Selene…her name was different depending on the origin,
and could only come to Earth during a full moon.

Despite his wealth and power, the Goddess
did not choose the warlock. She returned the love of the peasant,
gifting him with her moonstone as a symbol of her
affection.

Some stories claimed that the stone
granted immortality and allowed her to find and visit him no matter
where he was, perhaps even allow him to go to the moon to see
her.

There were as many versions as
there were fish in the sea, but somehow the warlock discovered the
pair. Furious with the match, he cursed his opponent to
trans
form
into a monster during the full moon to keep him away from the woman
he loved.

The warlock stole the stone from the
peasant and called the Goddess to him. Still, it was not enough to
win her heart. Determined, the warlock decided to kill the
peasant.

Anne had heard different
versions of the story, but one said that he succeeded in doing just
that, but not before enough people were turned to ensure that
lycanthrope would go on and survive. Another version said that the
Goddess, upon learning of her
lover’s death, killed herself to be with
him.

The problem for the warlock was that the
lover of the Moon Goddess was always reincarnated. No one ever
mentioned to her whether he was reincarnated as a werewolf or a
normal man.

None of the stories ever agreed on what
happened to Luna. Was she reincarnated as well? Or did she go back
to the moon to suffer alone?

Anne stared at her houseguest. He could be
a wolf, his reflexes were fast enough, but why did he not change to
defend himself?

Then, there was that thing he said about
seeing the man in black killing him. Memory from a past life,
perhaps?

The figure on the couch groaned,
clutched his head, and turned over. Anne shot to her feet as he
rubbed his eyes and blinked up at her.

The hint of stubble framed a square jaw.
Curious blue eyes stared up at her, freezing her to her spot and
making her blush. God, he was cute.

Then, remembering what she'd
d
one, she
smiled and sent him a nervous wave. "How're you
feeling?"

***

Mike leapt up and stumbled away from
her.

Her!
What was she doing here?

He tripped over the arm of the couch, his
feet tangling in a knit blanket, causing him to fall hard on his
back on the floor. The woman let out a small scream.

The sudden fall and impact of the landing
made his brain explode inside his head.

"Are you okay? Let me help you up." She
wrapped her little fingers around his thick wrists and pulled him
up with surprising strength.

When he was back on his feet and the room
no longer spun, he yanked his hands away. "What do you think you're
doing? Where am I?" God his head pounded. It made him nauseous. He
covered his mouth to keep anything from coming up.

She moved around quickly, taking his arm
again and leading him back to the spot where he'd been sleeping,
throwing the blanket on the chair. "You're at my pack master's
ranch. Here, take a seat."

He did, stunned with the strength in her
small frame and even more so when she rushed to the other side of
the cabin and filled a glass with water from the tub-like sink. The
thin pipes screeched and rattled until she turned the water
off.

She walked back and handed him the glass
and two red pills. He looked at them and sighed. Aspirin, just what
he needed.

He popped the pills into his mouth and
guzzled down the lukewarm water. The pills couldn't kick in fast
enough.

Keep your head clear. Get
some answers.

She said
pack master
. Shit. He was surrounded by
werewolves.

"Want to explain why you decided to
kidnap a Griffon City cop?" That warlock might not care where he
was from, but a pack of wolves who were familiar with the city
likely would.

She tensed, the color draining from her
cheeks. "You're a cop?"

He couldn't believe it. "You didn't
know?"

She shook her head, strands of that curly,
light hair flying all over the place.

He could see that she was telling the
truth. He reached into his pocket for his wallet to show her his
badge. His hand found lint.

He eyed her, suspicious and angry, his
hands clenching. "Where's my wallet?"

"We don't have it."

He jumped to his feet again. The room
spun and he couldn’t see her but he was sure he was looking right
at her. "Bullshit. Where is it?"

The door burst open. A man who was six
and a half feet tall ducked under the door frame to peer
inside.

Mike’s vision cleared like
calming lake water after a splash. He couldn't believe it. The guy
was like a red
Incredible Hulk
. Despite how Mike stood over his host, the
red-haired man's face radiated calm.

"Everything alright, Annie?" He asked, his
voice deep yet non-threatening.

She smiled for him. "Fine, Brock. Just
explaining some house rules."

Mike bristled at the
house rules
comment but said
nothing.

Brock turned his questioning stare to
Mike, eyed him from head to toe, then quietly ducked out of the
cabin and shut the door behind him.

A man that size would make some sort of
noise when he walked. Due to the lack of noise coming from the
other side of the door, he could tell Brock was waiting right
outside. Waiting for him to make a mistake before charging in to
Annie's rescue.